a poem of those removed from their mouths

had is such

a losing word

like hurt or


the bay has

lost it's sea,

the evening it's

pilgrimage of dusk

the song is

without note and

sugar the taste

of rust

appear once

the view is certain of


no rain would

be returning

a gaze of


an echo


fits the

eyelid well

eyesore inflict

mouth made

easier for being


you have

taken me

by the root


the floor

i exist from

and the

magnolia walls

head hit

for all the

mind’s stars

to grimace

about to be written but not quite

beyond the silent pane

white voices lay

in strict autumn,

lips vague redness

and fading

clothes abrupt

leaves skeletons


gazes upon sullen pages

ink poised lake

lazy, pools of deeply

midnight, and froze

upon a mirror

a look that interrupts

disgust, where the chrome

flowers bend over in bud

about to fruition

thru’ finale of air

it’s quiet time

for breathing,

in like withdrawn


out like an

empty can

rust worrying

the silhouetted

steeples, peaks of

the lonely and



it’s trance time

for waking,


from statue kingdoms,



pursuit of clocks

there shade deep

in inches of

numb keeping

return the same

pitch perfect gaze

it’s decay time

for swooning,

to up end seas

to pause celibate constellations

in lush larders,

this breath

wants complete exit

begun to seep

to bring drowning

over, nearer,

years those certain

coffins unravel

grief whilst walking thru’ autumn’s detached fingers

in situ


a dead


looked at

not ventured

or leaned


a space

where grey


and makes

it’s universe


no bright thing

can exist




is habitual

no cool


or voice

sings into

dust is

by dust’s


layers me

in fossil


inch by

yearly inch

refuse the outside

aperture diminish looking,

the appeal of outside is

horrendous, fierce whittling

voices carved from disgruntled

sadness is a weather to be missed

jagged traffic honed with horns

and intruding snarls and prods,

ink the air with cancer patterns

those mosaics of noise, come at

me with daggers of disguise

aperture shrink now and suffocate

daylight, noose that final sunbeam

into the dark inside an atom, withdraw

the view into unseeing, pinpoints

are eyeless exiled people

happens now the door is ajar no

more, and walls are sutured sobs

up to the ceiling, the floor sighed

with clothes, dysfunctional

snow not knowing where to fall

i am boxed within whiteness, hear

it’s outside anarchy wings panic,

endure the mob no more no

countless masks to stride thru’,

music insists my heartbeats

what would the coroner think

to find me on a bed of poems?

a word sea limited to the room

i persist in like a root,  thumbed

thru’ being rewritten

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